Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 119152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
“You will never be him. You will never fill his shoes. He was an honorable man. He didn’t deserve to die. . .” Her sobs cut her rant short, and I’m thankful for it. These calls are hard. She won’t ever see me for who I’ve become. How much I’ve grown and succeeded. How hard I fought to get where I am. But she’ll always remind me that I’m not him. And she’s right.
“I know I won’t, Mom.”
Her cries gut me. The anguish in every sob rips at my heart. I wish I could turn back time. Bring him back and erase all this pain for her. But I can’t. She loved a man with all her heart and soul, and he’s gone. It’s a reminder of why I’ve refused to open up to anyone. The high is not worth the lows.
I look up through my sliding glass door at the hallway Makayla disappeared down. What the fuck am I doing? The shit that stirs inside my chest, the inexplicable feelings, the electricity that sparks between us—what if it’s all a sign of trouble? It feels right, but for how long? We’re not a normal couple trying to seek out a relationship. We’re both strong-headed and don't know how to back down. Or when. What if the only place we’re headed is disaster?
“Mom, I gotta go. You need some rest. I’ll be over in the morning to check on you. We can go to the cemetery.”
“I don’t want to see him at the cemetery. I want to see him here. In our home. Don’t come over. It only makes it worse.” She disconnects the call.
I may never understand the depth of her suffering. But she will never understand mine. I lost him too. And that pain doesn’t go away.
Chapter 24
Makayla
Breathe. Just breathe. My heart is beating too fast. I can’t seem to calm myself down. Why does he have this effect on me? Because he’s hot, funny, kind—and in case you forgot, well-endowed. Oh, I don’t need the reminder. Our close proximity in the closet did all the reminding. I don’t know whether I was more pissed he tricked me or that what he was offering wasn’t going to happen. I would have given in to his proposal in a heartbeat. Every single naughty part of it had me melting, and each and every word made the ache between my legs worse. By the time he stepped away, my panties were soaked.
Needless to say, I lost that round.
I don’t know how much longer I can play these games. Keep up the hard-to-get persona and pretend I don’t have these intense feelings for him. My body is like a bomb, and it’s only a matter of time before I detonate. Or he does. Hopefully inside me. “Jesus, shut up, Makayla.” My insane brain is proof that I may need to shit or get off the pot. Which means I need to let whatever this is between us play out or run far, far away. The problem is, I want to run toward the danger way more than I want to run to safety. And he sure as hell is dangerous. The way he heats my blood in the most erotic ways. Whether it’s from anger or arousal, he has a hold on me. An itch I definitely need scratched. But maybe it won’t be a bad thing.
Just the thought of pursuing this has my skin prickling with excitement. This is crazy. Me? Makayla Fischer, as the one to proposition him, Ben Wallace, my nemesis? My hot, crazy, well-endowed enemy? It’s a good thing your lady parts and his ginormous buddy are besties. Ugh, just the thought of him inside me creates a pool of arousal.
What if this only leads to complete disaster? Well, as per past experiences, it’s definitely going to lead to wild, crazy sex. Yeah, and all that did was lead me to want more sex. And is that a bad thing? Yes! Because sometimes it can’t just be about sex! I’m human, and that thing called feelings eventually kicks in. I’m really starting to have a lot of those. It’s okay to admit you like him. Is like really the word here? I don’t know what we are, but what I do know is that I want him. In a bad, bad way.
“Oh, Jesus, Makayla, just do it. Take the plunge,” I say, staring at myself in the bathroom mirror. Survey says we both want this. It’s obvious he’s attracted to me. What I’m contemplating now is where it goes next. More sex, hopefully? “Dammit, stop it about the sex.” I want more than just sex. I want the cuddles, the late-night talks. The laughing and arguing. I want it all. But am I ready to admit that I want this with Ben? God, where’s Hannah’s Magic 8 Ball when I need it?